


In Your World

by InsertCoolName



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, Human Loki, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Romance, Slow Build, Æsir Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:16:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertCoolName/pseuds/InsertCoolName
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>((Currently being rewritten.))</p><p>Loki Stark was quite sure he could handle almost anything after fighting aliens alongside a supersoldier from the 1940's, a Norse God of Thunder, a biochemist with some very impressive anger-managememt issues, and two superspies. Sure, that ability was often challenged, especially since he was <i>living</i> with said supersoldier, god, biochemist, and superspies, but he adapted. He learned to be prepared for when Thor broke the toaster or Natasha threw a dagger in his direction.</p><p>Nearly a year after the Battle of New York, Loki was pretty sure he was prepared for anything that living with the Avengers could bring.</p><p>He was wrong.</p><p>Nothing could have prepared any of the Avengers for Anthony Odinson, God of Fire and Mischief and slightly-insane younger brother to Thor. The new god is full of mystery and a hurt so similar to Loki's that it just drags him in, no matter how much he kicks and screams about it, and the Avengers seem quite happy to just watch from the sidelines while it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Take My Eyes Off You

**Author's Note:**

> Well, technically I was supposed to be working on something else here... but this happened. I blame my imaginary short Loki. He's effin' adorable. <3
> 
> This is is WIP fic, so I don't know when I will post next, especially since school is starting very, very, _very_ soon. I will try for a post per week, though. If I write the next few chapters as quickly as I did the first, it should work out.
> 
> No beta, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Feel free to point any out if you find them.
> 
> Kudos' and comments are loved! I hope you all enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I have absolutely nothing against iPhones, except for the fact that I have never used one. Loki just doesn't like competition. ^^

Loki leaned up against the side of the quinjet and stared up at the wing, his arms crossed over his chest in boredom and his expression echoing the sentiment. Not even the noises coming from within the aircraft, some of the bordering on lecherous, improved his mood. The engineer would usually tease Steve endlessly about something like that, but it held no appeal at the moment.

Loki just wanted to get back down to the lab where Bruce was waiting to blow stuff up with him. Instead he was helping a ninety-something-year-old supersoldier find his iPhone.

A damn _iPhone_. That just made it all the worse.

Loki sighed and banged his head against the quinjet a few times, enjoying the dull thud it created. "Steve," he crooned, just to be an ass, "have you found it yet?"

"No, Stark," came the exasperated reply. "I haven't found it yet. Obviously."

"You've been working on your sarcasm," Loki commented dryly. "Nice."

"Can't you actually help me?"

"I am helping. I'm you're moral support."

"No, you're not," Steve countered. "You're just standing around." Loki hummed in agreement; he was just short enough to stand underneath the quinjet's wings without hitting his head. It was a pointless perk, but a perk of being short nonetheless.

"Like I said," he quipped, "moral support."

Silence fell between them as Steve resumed his search. Loki's fingers began to twitch as he waited, the plans for the Mark XVIII, the changes he needed to make for routing power to the right-hand repulsor on the Mark XVII, and the digits of pi all running through his mind at the same time. It created a nice buzz inside of his head, athough the outer-quiet quickly became too much. To make up for it he began humming a Muse song, tapping his fingers to the piano part.

The engineer had gotten to the part in _Starlight_ about never letting go when he was interrupted by the sound of metal cracking from within the quinjet, accompanied by some curses that were pretty creative for Steve Rogers. Loki let out a groan and pushed his palms into his eyesockets.

"Do I want to know what you just did?"

Steve hesitated. "Uhm..."

Loki let his arms fall to his sides and stalked to the back of the quinjet to peer in. Steve was standing in the cockpit, the pilot's seat a mangled ruin in one of his hands. Loki had to blink a few times to understand what had happened.

"You broke the pilot's chair."

Steve's already-red face turned an even darker shade of crimson. "Uh, yeah, I did."

"You broke. The damn. Pilot's chair."

"Sorry?"

Loki stared at the supersoldier for several long moments before the kicked-puppy look on Steve's face started to take its toll on him. Sighing, he felt his anger slowly dissapate, leaving the bone-deep weariness it had really stemmed from. He closed his eyes and layed against the ramp. He wasn't mad at Steve, just exausted and desperate because, nearly a year after the invasion, he was still working non-stop. The quinjet was now just another thing that needed fixing.

Although Loki knew he wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had the time to. Not after New York.

"It's okay, Steve," he said quietly. "Just leave it."

"Loki--"

The engineer waved the supersoldier off as he opened his eyes. "It's okay," he repeated. "I'll fix it." He smirked in an effort to cover up his momemt of weakness. "You called me Loki."

Steve's face quickly began turning red again. "I did? Sorry--"

"And here I thought you didn't know my first name! Don't appologize, my dear," Loki teased, his pleasure growing at the supersoldier's expression - picking on him was definately making his mood lighten. "We _do_ live together, after all." Leaving Steve to mull over the nonexistant implications of his words, he turned away from the quinjet and began aimlessly walking around it. "Come on, Steve. Your phone isn't in there."

"Well, then where the heck is it?" he asked despairingly. "I've looked everywhere--"

 _"Sir,"_ Jarvis interrupted, _"there is Bifrost energy within the viscinity. Might I suggest--"_

Before the AI could finish the room burst into golden light, a boom reverberating through the hanger and probably a good deal of the tower. Loki ended up against the quinjet, under the wing once again, with his arms covering his face. It took several seconds for the light to disappear, and many more for the colors to stop going wild behind the engineer's eyelids.

"Man of Iron!" Thor boomed in greeting; Loki cringed. He could feel a migraine coming on. "And Captain Rogers! It is very good to see you, my friends!"

 _"Mr. Odinson has arrived,"_ Jarvis stated primly. Loki swore he did it on purpose.

"So I've noticed," the engineer groaned, not yet ready to open his eyes. The colors were still dancing around in the back of his eyesockets.

_"He has company, sir."_

He opened them, anyway.

Thor was standing a few meters away from the quinjet, along with a man Loki had never seen before. The ground around them was singed with still-burning runes that would forever remain on the concrete. Steve had his head poked out of the quinjet, and he looked just as shocked as Loki felt, although he didn't seem to have the same problem as him.

"Damn you and your supersoldier-self," Loki grumbled as he covered his eyes back up. He only faintly realized that the statement made no sense at all.

"Hey there, Thor," Steve finally said. Loki heard him exit the quinjet with heavy footsteps. There was a metallic thud, presumably him putting the broken seat down onto the concrete. "It's nice to see you, too." He paused. "Who's your friend?"

Before Thor could answer Jarvis cut in. _"Sir, Doctor Banner is attempting to call you. Shall I put him through?"_

"Shit," Loki breathed. "Put him through, quickly! Is he okay, Jarvis?" He began to frantically pray to any deities listening, even the one (ones?) standing in the room. At least the code-green alarm hadn't been activated - yet.

 _"Loki?"_ The engineer let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. Bruce sounded panicked, but seemed to be keeping it together. _"What happened? Is something wrong?"_

"It's okay, Bruce," Loki replied quickly, "everything's fine. Thor just decided to drop in. Are you okay?"

Bruce took a few deep breaths before answering. _"Yeah, I'm good. I just need to... I'm going to head to my floor."_

"You do that," the engineer agreed, feeling a small pang of disappointment at losing time with his science bro. "Drink some tea and have Jarvis play you some soothing nature sounds." To his reassurance the doctor gave a small chuckle.

 _"I'll do that,"_ he said. Before he hung up, he added, _"Hi, Thor. It's good to have you back."_

Loki sighed when the phone call ended and rested his head against the quinjet. The hanger once again dropped into stillness, no one daring to speak. Loki focused on calming his own thudding heart down, although it kickstarted again when a new voice finally broke the quiet.

"Well, that was interesting."

Loki snorted and raised the arm covering his face just enough to peek underneath it to eye the stranger standing next to Thor. Still under the quinjet's wing, he couldn't see his face. He had to be tall, though, nearly as tall as Thor, and almost as muscled. He wore armor consisting of red-brown leathers accented with gold, looking both utilitarian and flashy. He had no visible weapons on him although he exuded an aura that told Loki he was dangerous, with or without them.

"Friends," began Thor, stepping closer to the quinjet, "this is my brother, Anthony."

Loki felt his eyebrows skyrocket in surprise. He had heard the story of the God of Thunder's banishment and the role Anthony had played in it, from both Thor and the SHIELD files the engineer had hacked into. Thor practically sang praises of his dear baby brother to anyone within earshot, about how he wasn't evil and how he was repenting for what he had done and that it all really had helped Thor to be a better person. Everyone in the tower had mixed feelings about Anthony, mostly because they didn't know him and they could only smile and nod as Thor went on and on and on...

Loki? Loki didn't exactly know what to think at the moment, especially when Anthony stepped forward and ducked under the quinjet's wing to look at the engineer. He tensed, but only stared when the god smirked at him.

"Hello there," he said quietly, teasingly. His voice was deep and warm, but not nearly as accented as Thor's. It struck Loki as odd. "Are you going to come out of there?"

Loki scowled and sidestepped off from under the wing, eyes never leaving the new Æsir. Anthony seemed content to turn around and watch him just as closely, casually resting his weight on the wing with a propped arm. He still had that smirk on his face.

"Anthony," Thor continued, seemingly oblivious to Loki's wariness, "these are some of my friends, Steven Rogers and Loki Stark."

"Captain America and Iron Man," Anthony said, his smirk growing into a grin. "How wonderful to meet you." Loki twitched at the hint of mockery in his tone.

"Likewise," he said stiffly, earning an arched brow from the god. His grin toned down a bit, turning into a true smile, before he amped it back up as Steve approached. His dark gaze shifted to supersoldier as he thrust a hand out towards him. Anthony hesitated only a moment before grasping it.

Loki suddenly felt like it was easier to breathe with those eyes finally off of him, his heart beating like a frightened jackrabbits's behind the arc reactor. He watched wordlessly as the god and the supersoldier shook hands and exchanged their own greetings, tensing all over again when Anthony glanced at him. The engineer was beginning to wish he had a set of his XVII bracelets on hand.

"Well," the god said, beaming at everyone, "I'm sure you are all wondering what Thor's insane baby brother is doing here--" Loki blinked "--so how about you introduce me to the rest of your team and then we can tell our story."

"An excellent idea," Loki said coolly, spinning around on one foot and heading for the lift. "Jarvis, call Natasha and Clint to the communual floor, will you?" He paused and turned his head back, confirming that everyone was following - and that _Anthony was still staring at him_. Feeling his skin prickle, Loki turned away and stepped into the waiting lift. "Leave Bruce be," he added.

 _"Of course, sir,"_ Jarvis responded.

"Wait! My phone--"

Loki narrowed his eyes at Steve, instantly shutting him up. "It's not here," he repeated from earlier. "Just leave it, Steve. It was a damn _iPhone_. I will not have competitors in my tower, anyway."

"But--"

"I'll give you a StarkPhone," he promised, rolling his eyes. "Jarvis can transfer any contacts you had over to it."

Steve sighed and nodded as he stepped into the lift, followed by Thor and Anthony. The ride down was tense and awkward, and Loki made sure to keep both Steve and Thor between him and Anthony. He almost ran out of the lift when it opened to the comunual floor. As it was, he did quickly make his was to the kitchen, where a fresh pot of coffee waited for him. He inhaled the aroma of liquid heaven and let it out with a sigh.

"You are a godsend, Jarvis."

 _"Thank you, sir,"_ he replied smugly, making Loki smile. He quickly poured himself a cup and grabbed the set of bracelets he had hidden in the freezer, then rushed out to the lounge where Steve, Thor, and Anthony had already taken seats.

Deciding to be a good host, which he _could_ do, despite what the tabloids said about him, Loki asked, "Anyone need something to drink? I have coffee, water, alcohol..." He motioned to the fully-stocked bar. It tempted him, but then Steve would give him a disappointed look that he just couldn't deal with right now.

Everyone shook their heads no, although Anthony's eyes did linger on the bar for a few moments before switching back to Loki. Loki was ready to tear his hair out from all of the creepy staring. Instead he just ran a hand through his long, slicked-back locks and sat down in an armchair, praying that Natasha and Clint would be there soon.

He was about to ask Jarvis where the assassin and the archer were when the lift dinged, heralding their arrival. Loki nearly sighed in relief.

"Loki-Dokes!" Clint sing-songed down the hallway. The engineer cringed at the nickname. "I need you to fix my bow for me." He cringed again.

"That's the third time since I modified it," he said, completely exasperated. "I even put better support in it. What the hell do you do to it? Are you fucking it?!"

Loki jumped when Anthony suddenly burst into laughter, covering his hand with a face to smother the chuckles. It was a full and deep sound that had Loki's face burning slightly.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Natasha said as she plopped herself down onto the free loveseat. She was wearing her SHIELD catsuit and dripping with sweat, probably fresh from the gym. Clint looked very much the same. The offending bow rested in his lap. Both of them gawked at the laughing Anthony, Natasha as suspicious as usual and Clint with a wounded but curious look.

"So who're you?" the archer asked.

"Anthony Odinson," the Æsir replied, a bit breathessly as he wiped away a tear. "God of Fire and Mischief." Barton's eyebrows shot up, but then recognition flickered over his face and his expression changed to something similar to Natasha's.

"You're the asshole who got Thor kicked out of Asgard - and who broke into a SHIELD site to try and lift Mjolnir - and who destroyed that town in New Mexico."

"That's me." His tone was totally nonchalant, which rubbed Loki the wrong way.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, making an effort to not make it sound like a demand. "Last time I checked, you were on SHIELD's wanted list - in the top three." Natasha shot him a look, but Loki ignored it. "Fury isn't very happy with you. Not to mention Thor told us you were in prision for trying to kill him, _repenting_."

Anthony's eyes darkened with hidden emotion at Loki's words, although they didn't affect his blasé attitude as he replied, "I was, but Thor decided to tell Father about the _wonderful_ team he was part of and how they defended their realm against Amora and the Chitauri. He decided that maybe I could learn some lessons on morality from you. And here I am," he added, throwing up his arms.

"Odin wants us to babysit you," Loki deadpanned. He expected at least a glare from Anthony, if not some sort of fiery retribution, but all he got was a smirk.

"Yes."

Loki paused for a moment, took a huge swig of coffee, then grumbled, "Awesome."

"Truly." Anthony turned to Natasha and Clint - or, rather just Natasha. "And who might you be?" The assassin didn't even blink at the laschivous tone his voice took. Loki hoped the god would keep it up; it would definately end with him being stabbed.

"They are Agents Natasha Romanoff and Cint Barton," Thor supplied, "the Black Widow and Hawkeye."

"Charmed," Anthony said, his grin turning flirtacious as he eyed Natasha appreciatively. Natasha's gaze said 'murder' loud and clear.

 _Oh yes,_ Loki thought, internally smirking, _he's so getting stabbed._

"So," he said, taking a sip of his coffee and nearly choking on it when he realized it had cooled down. _Damn._ "So," he repeated, "who gets to tell Fury?"

Lots of bickering ensued after that, which Loki watched with amusement. When it was suggested that he do it an arched eyebrow halted any repeats. Anthony seemed to be enjoying it all quite a bit, too, if the please glint in his eye was any indication.

"I could do it," he offered, startling all the room into silence. The incredulous look he earned from Steve was actually quite hilarious.

"I'll just send him an email," Natasha finally said as she stood up, leaving no room for argument. _As if,_ Loki mused. Natasha nodded at Anthony, who actually had the gall to _blow her a kiss_ as she walked away. Clint looked like he wanted to burst into laughter and shoot an arrow through the God of Mischief's eyesocket at the same time.

Loki just wanted out.

"Well," he said, pushing his cold coffee away with an expression of disgust, "if that is all, I shall be in the lab." He stood and snatched Clint's bow away from him. He could feel dark eyes on him once again as he sauntered to the lift. "I'll have the bow and the phone done soon."

"Waitaminute," Steve said quickly, pausing Loki. "Where's Anthony going to stay?"

"He will remain with me on my floor," Thor replied matter-of-factly over Anthony's grumbled "Damn."

"All settled, then." Loki continued to the lift. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Turning around, he caught Anthony's gaze seconds before the doors slid shut. He met the dark brown eyes without hesitating, trying to keep the nerves he felt around the god out of his own green ones. Anthony smirked right before the lift closed, and Loki was able to breathe once more.

"What the hell...?"

 _"Is something the matter, sir?"_ Jarvis actually sounded mildly concerned.

"Nothing, Jarvis." Loki tapped his slim fingers against the arc reactor in an attempt to relax. There was something about Anthony that unsettled him. He needed something to take his mind off of the new god, and quickly.

He froze, remembering why he had been dragged out of the lab in the first place. A grin quickly took over his face.

"Did Butterfingers get Steve's mobile?" he asked Jarvis, sounding as innocent as he possibly could.

 _"Yes, sir,"_ the AI replied. He didn't sound at all moved by his creator's tone, if not slightly exasperated. _"I have taken the liberty and transferred all data to the prototype StarkPhone 7."_

Loki's grin grew to cheshire-cat proportions as he stepped out onto the floor of his lab. Butterfingers greeted him with a waving claw that held Steve's blue iPhone. Loki took it and sat down against a workbench, setting down the bow, and examined the mobile like it was something actually interesting. He turned it on, chuckling when the screen lit up and revealed the red, white, and blue background.

Damn that God of Fire and Mischief that now lived only a few floors down from Loki's lab, and damn everything else. Clint's bow could wait for a bit, and so could the quinjet and the suits. At that moment, Loki just needed to blow the piece-of-shit iPhone up.

××---×---××

A few hours later the iPhone was no more. Loki was looking at the schematics for the bow, trying to figure out how to make it even more durable, when Jarvis cut off his music. The engineer breifly mourned the loss of Dan Smith's voice singing about filling a hole in his soul before the AI spoke:

_"Sir, the Avengers have an email from Director Fury."_

"Oh?" Loki smirked. "What does our esteemed director have to say?"

_"Email reads as follows: 'You are all damn lucky I have other shit to take care of right now. We'll be meeting up in a few days, and I expect a really good explanation.'"_

Snickering at the way Jarvis swore, all posh and prim, Loki shook his head. "The others have received it, also?"

_"Yes, sir."_

"Wonderful. Bring the music back up, will you?"

_"Of course, sir."_

Loki smiled softly and murmured, "Thank you, Jarvis."


	2. Joy Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing productive happens in this chapter.
> 
> _Nothing._
> 
> So, yes, it's rather filler-ish, but I like it. I hope you do, too. ^^
> 
> Once again, no beta and all mistakes are mine. Feel free to point any out if you see them.

True to his word, Fury arrived at the tower four days later and immediately called a mandatory Avengers meeting.

True to his form, Loki never even bothered to leave the lab.

The engineer had spent the four days in a high fueled by science and caffeine. Clint's bow had been repaired quickly, and, when the work gave him a bunch of totally awesome ideas that just hadn't been compatible with it, Loki had went and built him a new one as well. Jarvis put together a new pilot seat for the quinjet, leaving only the aircraft itself to be looked at. The Mark XVIII was complete and ready for a test flight and designs for the XIX were being drawn up.

All in all, it had been a very successful four days that ended with Loki nearly falling asleep facedown on the nearest workbench, ass hanging half-off of his chair and legs curled up underneath it in the most uncomfortable way possible. He completely ignored Jarvis' repeated summons to the meeting, and continued to ignore him when he suggested that Loki went to bed, or at least go lay down on the cot he had in one corner of the workshop for situations like this.

Loki just wasn't ready to go back to being human yet.

He scowled when his stomach growled in disagreement. Right, he hadn't eaten in a while. He needed food. And, he admitted begrudgingly, sleep. Coffee would be of no help whatsoever at this point.

"Jarvis," he mumbled into the workbench, "is Director Furious gone yet?"

 _"Yes, sir,"_ Jarvis replied, sounding resigned. _"Director Fury departed nearly fifteen minutes ago."_

"What time is it?"

_"It is nine fifty-two a.m., sir."_

Definately too early to be human.

Lifting his head with a groan, Loki uncurled his legs slowly and stretched them forward. He raised his arms in a similar fashion before running a hand through his hair, letting a vaguely distressed sound at how greasy it felt. A shower was definately in order, but after food.

Happy with his decisions, Loki stood up and began the journey across the wokshop and towards the lift.

 _"Don't forget Captain Rogers' phone and Agent Barton's bows, sir,"_ Jarvis gently reminded him. Loki moaned. _"They have been wondering about their items for a while now."_

"Of course they have," the engineer grumbled. He backtracked to the workbench and grabbed a bow in each hand, but couldn't find Steve's mobile. After some fumbled rummaging Butterfingers rolled over with it in his claw. Loki hummed a "Thank you" at the bot, patting it awkwardly before managing to grab the mobile in one bow-filled hand. Then he entered the lift, instructing Jarvis to take him to the communual floor.

In the short ride down one floor Loki ended up almost falling asleep again, this time against the back wall of the lift. He was quickly startled awake, however, when the doors slid open and Clint's yelling voice flooded into the metal box. Loki rolled his eyes when he realized it was all competative cursing and softly stalked down the hallway to find the archer pitted against Natasha in a game of Mario Kart. Steve was watching the two superspies play with an expression of exasperated fondness from one end of the couch while Bruce sat reading the paper on the other. Stark Tower's two resident Norse gods were nowhere to be seen.

Without saying a word Loki walked into the room, dropped the StarkPhone into Steve's lap, practically threw the bows at Clint, and, with the archer's idignant yelp and threats of bodily harm following him, escaped into the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, Bruce trailed in after the engineer a few minutes later. He didn't speak at all, opting instead to lean up against the counter and watch his fellow scientist as he made a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Concern was clearly etched onto his face, but he knew better than to voice it. When Loki was this far gone he had a tendency to bite peoples' heads off. Loki wasn't proud of it.

Still, the silence was companionable. Both of them just hung around the kitchen as Loki put the sandwich stuff away, nearly dropping the peanut butter twice, and migrated around the room to stay awake while he ate. The sandwich was quickly demolished, despite the fact that it wasn't particularly good since the engineer had managed to put too much jelly on it. When finished he brushed past Bruce, who gave him a brief but comforting squeeze on his shoulder, and into the lounge, mock-saluting Steve as he headed back for the lift.

"Good night, Loki," the captain called after him.

Loki didn't reply.

××---×---××

Loki woke up to his own screams five hours earlier, hands clawing at the arc reactor in a feeble attempt to protect it from his nightmares. It took Jarvis over ten minutes to calm him down with reminders of where he was and who was with him in the tower. Sometimes he even said sweet nothings, like _"You're safe, sir,"_ and _"Everything is alright."_

Yet even with his creation coddling him, Loki sat on the center of his bed in a ball, back hunched and chin tucked up against his knees. He felt small.

 _"Sir,"_ Jarvis said gently, _"if I may make a suggestion?"_

"You may," Loki rasped, not really hearing his own voice.

_"Perhaps speaking to someone would improve your state."_

"No."

_"Doctor Banner is currently in his lab. I am sure he would--"_

"No," the engineer repeated, this time with more force. "I do not need to---I do not want to--" Loki bit the inside of his cheek before he could suddenly begin vomitting words that he wouldn't know what to do with. Jarvis remained silent for a few moments.

 _"Very well, sir,"_ the AI finally said. _"Be aware that I am always here to listen, too."_

Loki barked out a sharp and broken laugh. Jarvis was already so much to him: creation. Butler. Co-pilot. Best friend. If pressed, he'd go as far to call him _child_. And here he was, offering to play therapist to his creator, employer, teammate, closest companion, and father.

Loki briefly wondered if he was thinking too much of himself in assuming he was actually all those things to the AI. Then he began to question his sanity, but that was nothing new.

"I am aware of that, Jarvis," he sighed, "and I thank you." He unfurled himself with joints creaking in complaint at the rough treatment. "But even if I wished to speak of it, I do not remember what I dreamed of."

The lie was simple. It slipped off of his tongue easily.

He knew better than to think Jarvis' silence meant he actually believed him.

The engineer proceeded into the lounge, beelining it for the bar. He poured himself a shot of whiskey, and one shot quickly became five. When whiskey and scotch weren't enough, he moved onto absinthe straight from the bottle. He actually managed to get black-out drunk enough to fall back asleep some time around seven in the afternoon, fetal-positioned in one corner of the couch with a bottle of his favorite poison still clutched to his chest.

Loki also knew better than to pray for a dreamless sleep.

××---×---××

"Lo-ki!"

The engineer rolled his eyes at Clint's whiny tone as he headed down the hallway leading to the new archery range. The archer was dogging right on his heels, a pleading expression on his face as he tried to convince Loki to lend him his 1967 Chevy Impala for some ridiculous Supernatural convention.

Yes, it was ridiculous. Loki had made the stylish black car famous long before those demon-hunting Winchesters had.

"No."

"Awe, c'mon, man. Just for a few hours?"

"No."

"But--"

"No, Barton." Loki stopped, blocking the hallway, and settled the archer with a stare that had him closing his mouth, the click of his jaw audible. "I have finally learned my lesson and I intend to live by it."

Clint pouted. "What the hell did _I_ do?"

"You were the one driving when my prototype Tesla Roadster ended up in the Chrysler Building lobby," Loki pointed out

"What--that was _not_ my fault! You know that, hell, you were there! Seriously, that asshole Magneto just has the worst timing ever. Who tries to take over the world on the Fourth of July? On _Captain America_ 's birthday?!"

Loki had to nod in agreement. Magneto was a genius - according to SHIELD, anyway - but he didn't really act like one. "And I forgave you for that. _And_ I let you drive my Cobra after I finally got it rebuilt." He paused and crossed his arms. "What happened to that, I wonder?"

"It got teleported onto the Statue of Liberty's head. Again: not! My! Fault! We don't even know who's fault that was!"

Loki arched a slender eyebrow. "Perhaps. But need I mention the limo incident?"

Clint shuffled on his feet and his face darkened in a blush. "No," he grumbled. Loki smirked.

"I didn't think so."

"So that means no Impala?" the archer asked forlornly. Loki nodded.

"No Impala." He whirled around and once again continued towards the archery range. The hallway opened up into a huge room. All of the walls were made of shiny black tiles, along with the floor and the ceiling. At each corner of each tile was a yellowish light. Loki walked into the center of the room and twisted around to look at Clint, who had stopped in the doorway to gawk around the room.

"So?" he prompted, holding his arms out. "Whaddya think?"

"It's... nice," Clint said hesitantly, rubbing his neck in obvious confusion. Loki's face took on an 'I just sucked on a lemon' expression.

"Nice?" he echoed incredulously. "Is that all you can say? _Nice_?"

"Well... where are the targets?"

"Everywhere, Clint. Everywhere and anywhere."

Clint blinked. "Huh?"

The engineer heaved a put-upon sigh and enroached on the archer's space. Said archer leaned back with wide eyes before being yanked into the room and pushed into the center. Loki jerked the bow off of his arm and shoved it into his hands before leaving Clint, totally stumped, in the room alone.

"Loki--"

"Stay," Loki ordered as he disappeared behind the door. He swiftly made his way into the viewing and control room right next to the range and began activating the system.

"Give him Simulation One," he instructed Jarvis. "That should be simple enough that it doesn't blow his mind too badly."

 _"Of course, sir,"_ Jarvis dutifully comfirmed. Loki watched Clint begin to wander about the room through the blacked-out window - to anyone in the archery range it would seem like nothing more than the sensory tiles - smirking when he stopped to stare as multiple beams from the yellow lights began to take shape on the other side of the room. The hologram formed a detailess man that instantly began running at Clint as soon as it was finished. Clint wasted no time aiming and shooting at it, hitting it in the right shoulder. When it still came at him he shot it in the leg. The hologram fell to one knee before disappearing in a burst of yellow particles.

"Yes!" Loki crowed, planting his hands on his hips in pride. "It worked! Well, of course it did. I made it. But it worked!"

 _"Well done, sir,"_ Jarvis humored him. Loki grinned, not minding the AI's dry tone one bit.

"Loki?" Clint called out, suddenly looking very excited. "What the hell was that?"

"That, Katniss," the engineer replied, pushing the button that turned on the loudspeaker, "was Simuation One. There are five premade simulations, all with various settings, but you can make your own. Jarvis can record reaction time and accuracy and have the holograms respond accordingly, depending on the hit. You won't be able to use any special arrows, sadly, but I think this should be good enough for now."

"Good enough? This is fucking _awesome_ , man. Jesus," Clint uttered. He looked around the room before asking, "Where the hell are you, anyway?"

Loki responded by rapping his knuckles on the window twice, the black on the other side bleeding away to reveal the engineer's hiding place. Clint's grin was truly priceless.

"Observation and control room," the engineer explained. "You can have Jarvis control everything, or you can have someone manually making all the moves." Loki's own grin grew. "Want to try another simulation?"

Cint's eyes lit up. "Hell yeah."

"Jarvis, start Simulation Two."

_"With pleasure, sir."_

Clint went through all simulations very quickly, number of attackers and types of defenses varying with each one. Loki and Jarvis had fun making up situations for the archer on the fly. They discussed strategies and positions that ranged from highly dangerous to unbelievably ridiculous, and had Clint try each and every one of them. Each time Clint took it like a champ, remaining serious until every last enemy was down. When the yellow hologram dust settled, however, he'd let out a woop and a boistrous "Fuck yeah!" that could have rivalled Thor on the happiness level.

Loki would never admit it, but he found it all rather endearing. He loved seeing his team happy.

But no one could ever say Loki was a patient man. As much as he enjoyed watching his creations in action, and watching people who enjoy said creations as much as he, he soon became bored.

"I'm heading out, Clint," he announced over the loudspeaker.

"Okay," Clint replied distractedly, cackling at a hologram that had another form standing on its shoulders. It lumbered around drunkenly in clumsy attempts of attack that the archer easily sidestepped. Loki watched in amusement before standing up and turning around--

" _Jesus_!"

\-- to come face-to-face with one Anthony Odinson, armorless and dressed in a wine-red pair of leather trousers and a tunic of similar color, emboidered with gold thread around the collar.

"Wrong god," he said in an excited sing-song voice, giving the engineer a wide grin. Loki was close enough to see the mischief alight in his eyes and smell coffee on his breath. In the week that he had been in the tower, the god had become addicted to the beverage, even more than Loki.

He really wanted to know whose bright idea it was to give the God of Fire and Mischief coffee in the first place.

"Loki? What happened?" Clint demanded, voice turning serious as he turned to face the concealed window. At the same time, Jarvis belatedly chimed, _"Master Odinson has appeared, sir."_ Loki ignored both of them in favor of staring down the god, which was a challenge, considering Anthony had a good five or six inches on him. That, and he seemed too energetic to care.

"Odinson," the engineer said, tone stiff and rather accusatory. Anthony cocked an eyebrow.

"Stark! Fancy seeing you here!" His voice was loud, but, thankfully, not nearly as loud as Thor when he had Anthony's current level of exuberance. He was just _radiating_ it.

 _My tower,_ Loki wanted to say. _I can go wherever the fuck I want._

"What are you doing here?" he said instead, lifting his chin in defiance. It only seemed to stoke Anthony's amusement further, much to his chargrin.

"Exploring," he answered, sounding like he was aiming for casual. The engineer felt his impatience slightly rise at the vague explenation. His glare sharpened into something much more, something Clint had dubbed 'the last thing you may ever see'. The only person who could do it as well as him was Natasha - actually, she could do it much better - but the God of Mischief seemed to have developed some sort of imunity to it on his first day. Loki's, however, worked perfectly:

Anthony's brow lifted in slight suprise as he held his hands up in surrender. "Steady there," he said in a placating, but amused, voice. "In truth, I am hiding from Thor."

"Why?"

"...I may or may not have turned all of his clothes, including his cape, a rather unfortunate pink. I apologize in advance for the impending property damage."

Loki gritted his teeth. "Wonderful."

"I said I was sorry," Anthony pointed out, still grinning. "Anyway, I was simply looking for Clinton. He promised me an archery match. What better place for such an event than an archery range?"

"It's Clint," the archer said before Loki could reply. The engineer had forgotten that the loudspeaker had been on. He glanced out the window, scowling when he saw Clint smooshing himself up against the wall a few feet to the right of the once-again hidden window. _What the hell is he doing?_

"And I hope you're ready to have your ass kicked," Clint concluded, words muffled by the wall. Loki stepped away from Anthony - he hadn't noticed how close they had been standing - and reached over the console to knock on the window, letting up the blackout disguise. It startled Clint into stepping away from the wall and peeking into the window, only to press himself up against it. His features became distorted as he opened his mouth and licked the glass.

Loki took a step back, shivering in disgust. Behind him Anthony began to laugh.

"That's just vile," Loki said scathingly. "Stop it. Don't encourage him," he added, directed at the chuckling god.

"Vile indeed," Anthony agreed, rolling his eyes at the archer. He calmed and settled him with a cock-sure smirk. "And if you are so sure of your victory, how about we bet on it?"

Clint narrowed his eyes. "What kind of bet?"

"Loser has to prank Lady Natasha," the god offered, eyes glowing. Clint's eyebrows shot up.

"As tempting as that is, no deal. Who says you won't just use magic?"

Anthony's face morphed back into a full-fledge grin. "I suppose you will just have to rely on my word," he cajoled.

"Yeah, no. I've read the legends, asshole. I'm guessing there's a reason the vikings called you Trickster."

"Indeed." Loki noticed the god bristle ever so slightly before composing himself. _Curious._ "Just another one of my hard-earned epithets."

Despite the odds, Clint actually seemed to be considering it, albeit dubiously. Loki was actually quite interested. Hawkeye, the bow-weilding Avenger and SHIELD superspy assassin extraordinare versus the God of Mischief, a warrior prince of Asgard. Not to mention the fact that Anthony was probably very, very caffeinated.

Yes, he had to see this.

"Legolas," Loki deadpanned, bringing all attention on him, "if you win, I'll let you take the Impala."

Clint's jaw dropped.

"Fucking _deal_."

××---×---××

Anthony's best reaction time was 22.37 seconds.

Clint's was 21.96.

Forty. One. Fucking. Milliseconds. Faster.

"If that car gets so much as breathed on," Loki ground out in a tone of voice he usually reseved for scaring the shit out of people, holding the keys to the Impala, "I will personally shove every single arrow in this tower up your ass."

"Yeah yeah," Clint crowed, plucking the keys out of the engineer's hands. "I'll be very careful, _Dad_." He turned to Anthony, who had so far taken losing with a good grace that had Loki wondering if he had lost on purpose. "Good luck, asshole," the archer told him, sounding sincere. "You have to prank Natasha now."

Then he walked away, whistling a very off-key version of _Carry On Wayward Son_. Anthony's face was frozen in surprise before it formed into an expression of what may have been terror.

Okay, then. Maybe he hadn't been a purposeful failure. And maybe Anthony did have a sense of self-preservation after all.

Smirking, Loki patted the god's shoulder as he brushed past him.

"I'll be sure to have Jarvis send you some flowers and a get-well card, when all is said and done."

Anthony's eyes flashed at him as he sent Loki a small smile. It was hesitant and frankly scared to death, but it was a true one.

"Thanks."


End file.
